InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "I love padmichael!"

Catcher Soleil had lived his life with two faces. The optimistic guy on the network was one. Outgoing, always trying to lend a helping hand to his fellow displaced homies from other worlds. People liked to see this side of him, not thinking twice about his sudden retraction from social events on occasion, or the fact he never showed the upper part of his back, or strayed away from talks of conspiracies. Not all of it was an act, of course. Catcher had faked nothing when it came to the friendships he had made, treasuring each one, even if the other person vanished after a few months or so.

This side of him was the one he'd never wanted to have leave. His way of pretending he wasn't cursed, just a normal human with normal human problems. Never plagued by cryptic visions of the future, fearful of the government finding out about his curse. Conducting experiments on him because he was the furthest from the definition of ordinary, when all he ever wanted was to live an average life. Eerie Harbor had given him a second chance, merging the magic of fairytales and the mundane.

The other side was much more silent, constantly trying to remind him that he was different, that would outlive most everyone here and in the long run these connections didn't mean anything. No matter how much he pretended, the outcome would always be the same.

The clock stopped ticking after that one night in '66.

He would never forget the faces of the people at the crime scene. He'd gone out for a run to 7-11 to get a slushie and a few snacks for the movie he and Lock planned to watch. When he'd heard someone call for help. Flying home was always risky, but it kept Catcher from needing to get a car. When he landed, whoever had been screaming had been stained red. The rabbit suit and murder weapon on the grass patch a few feet away, and his feet stained with the blood of the victim.

Blue and red flashed. And it was all over. Everything moved in slow motion.

"Get on the ground."

Turning back to his human form holding his hands up. Chains hooked around his arms, dragged away into prison. Then left in this cell to rot, occasionally getting breaks to eat. Or to be questioned, in which Catcher denied their claims of being the killer.

And as much as he wanted out. To go and explain that everything wasn't his fault, clear his name. The looks on the faces of the people who trusted him, who looked to him as a friend truly scared him. They would never look at him the same. They would see Catcher as a liar. In a way, he deserved it. To be locked up. Be put on trial for a crime he didn't commit. Never in his right mind would he willingly hurt someone like that. But on paper it wasn't going to do him any favors. The Department of Anomalies would find the culprit, or he'd just stand trial. It didn't matter anymore. Catcher had done enough damage as it was.

Sure, some of them would understand. Castiel already knew, as did Lock. And he doubted Aqueous or Necrosis would necessarily care in the long run. But he could only imagine the look of disgust on Kaisinel's face, or the confusion in Perry or Harry's. Not to mention Al, staring this entire situation down as the head of the canvassing branch that had been hunting the killer in particular. He couldn't imagine the stress he was facing right now. Chester, Peter, Belladonna, Mossie...all of them would never see him the same. He couldn't blame them for never wanting to speak to him after this. It made him sick to his stomach to think about.

Assuming he cleared his name, that is.

If they even still trust me.